Amock Comedy Magazine 5 HTML version

Not a lot of people know that the legendary western gunslinger, Kid Curry, was so named because of his love
for spicy grub. Often, before a shootout, he would have a portion of chicken pakora before returning, after
shooting three bad guys, to finish his meal with a beef madras, fried rice and a garlic naan.
His buddy, Hannibal Hays, the brains behind the duo, was not so keen on fiery victuals, being more of a chicken
korma man. Often, out on the prairie and sitting round a campfire, they would tuck into a take-away which they
bought from the Ashoka Palace, Dodge City.
The tale is told of how once the pair were informed that the Hole In The
Head gang were planning to raid the Ashoka and make off with their stock
of spices, which they planned to sell to the local red Indians as a perfect
accompaniment to their firewater.
“We can’t have this,” the Kid told his buddy, “Without spices we won’t get
no curry.”
“I’d be perfectly happy with a pot noodle,” Hannibal replied.
The Kid began saddling his horse. “No way,” he said, “There is no way I’m
going to be known as Kid Pot Noodle. I mean to ride into town and defend
the Ashoka with my life if I have to.”
“Oh, you’re so macho,” lisped Hannibal, who hadn’t been the same since
watching Brokeback Mountain.
The Kid mounted up. “You coming or not?”
“I suppose so, we are meant to be a duo after all.”
They rode all night and as they approached Dodge City the Kid turned to Hays. “Okay Brains, what’s the master
plan for tackling the Hole In The Head gang? They’ve got fifty men with repeating rifles, six Gatling guns and a
wagon full of dynamite.”
Hannibal was somewhat dismayed as he was due at a fashion show in Texas later that morning. “Couldn’t we
just phone John Wayne?”
“’Fraid not, you know the Duke can’t abide Indians. He aint gonna help the Ashoka boys.”
“But they’re different Indians,” Hays complained.
“Makes no difference to the Duke. He’d likely round them up and pack them off to a reservation and then we
definitely wouldn’t get any curry.”
Hays considered this. “Okay, let’s get to a saloon and have a drink, I need time to think.”
In the bar Hays had a shot of red eye before letting out a wild whoop. “I’ve got it!” he shouted.
“Lucky old you,” said the barman, who’d also seen Brokeback Mountain.
“What’s the plan then, Hays?” the Kid asked.
“Follow me,” was the response and Hays led the Kid through the back streets to the kitchen entrance to the
Ashoka. A loud knock brought the manager to the door.
“We’ve come to save your spices,” the Kid told him.
And so it was that when the Hole In The Head gang rode into town they were welcomed with a sign reading